“Let’s hear it, and judge for ourselves,” suggested Fred.
“Why, it was like this,” said Slim. “It was out in the Western League, and they were having a close game of ball. It was in the ninth inning, with two men out and one run needed to win.
“The man at the bat, one of the best sluggers on the team, soaked the ball good and plenty on a line to centre field. It hit a rabbit, who was browsing near the centre field fence. Of course it scared him, and he came streaking in and reached second base just before the batter.
“Down the line went the rabbit toward third, with the batter legging it right after him. The rabbit touched third and then, frightened at the crowd in the bleachers just behind third, it turned around and scooted for the home plate. It crossed the plate with the batter right at its heels, just as the ball was thrown in. But although the batter touched the plate just before the ball got there, the umpire called him out.”
“I don’t see why,” interrupted Teddy.
“Of course there was a big kick about it,” said Slim smoothly, “but the decision went, just the same. The umpire said the rabbit paced the runner and made him run faster than he otherwise would, and so he got to the plate before the ball.”
There was a dead silence, while the boys watched Slim, as though they expected the fate of Ananias to overtake him.
Fred coughed significantly.
“You see,” said Slim mournfully, to Granger, “he doesn’t believe it either. You’ve poisoned his mind against me. You’ve taken away my reputation. Why, if you don’t believe it,” he went on, in pretended indignation, “I can take you out there and show you the very grounds where the thing happened! I can show you the very base that the rabbit touched! I can show you the bleachers where the crowd sat that frightened the rabbit! If the rabbit’s alive still, perhaps I can show you the rabbit! If—”
“That’ll do,” said Melvin solemnly. “The court finds you guilty, and condemns you to twenty years of truth-telling.”